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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29859369">in the common tongue</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/takingoffmyshoes/pseuds/takingoffmyshoes'>takingoffmyshoes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Gen, M/M, Some Medical Stuff, and vicarious indian food appreciation, mostly just grade A feelings-denial</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 00:34:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,103</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29859369</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/takingoffmyshoes/pseuds/takingoffmyshoes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Can I ask a potentially insensitive question?" Jaskier asks, breaking the silence.</p><p>"Better than anyone else I know," Eskel answers out of habit.</p><p>"Great! Why aren't you married?"</p><p>Eskel blinks. "What? Like, in general?"</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eskel &amp; Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>72</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>in the common tongue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>modern au w magical realism bc why not?</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Eskel finally makes it in, Jaskier's already there, and has been for a while if the cards spread out along the foot of the bed are any indication. Solitaire, and somehow he's losing. Badly. Geralt looks about half as drugged as he should be and twice as drugged as he wants to be, alert enough to be watching Jaskier's attempts with a sort of baleful consternation, but apparently unable to summon up any of the scathing commentary he'd usually be making.</p>
<p>"Hey, asshole," Eskel says, and drops his bag by the door. </p>
<p>"Hey," Jaskier says absently, staring thoughtfully at his cards. Geralt looks up at him with a lagging sort of blink, then softens into a smile.</p>
<p>"Hey," he says hoarsely.</p>
<p>"What fucked you up this time?" Eskel asks, though he already more or less knows. Emergency contact, and all, plus he knows most of the first responders in person by this point. Still, it's routine, and he didn't get a definite ID from the response team. Also, sometimes Geralt thinks he can lie, especially if he's already a little hazy, and that's generally hilarious.</p>
<p>Geralt hums, like he's thinking about it. "Some big fuck-off snake," he finally admits. "Was stupid."</p>
<p>"Who, you or the snake?"</p>
<p>"Both," Geralt grunts. </p>
<p>"Oh fuck me, <i>I'm</i> stupid," Jaskier declares, suddenly slapping down a card. "Fully forgot how numbers work, lads, but we're back on track now."</p>
<p>"That's rough, buddy," Eskel says, and pats him on the shoulder on his way to the computer on the standing desk by the bed. "Geralt, any chance you're gonna give me details, or do I need to hack into your chart?"</p>
<p>Geralt blinks up at him very, very slowly. Oh, he's <i>way</i> more baked than Eskel thought. His eyes are normal, though, so either he didn't take anything of his own or the EMMTs gave him White Honey on the way over. He jiggles the mouse to wake the screen up, hoping it hasn't been asleep long enough to have timed out. It has. Well, fuck.</p>
<p>He casts a very careful, very gentle <i>axii</i> at the log-in screen. It crackles, a random username and password flickering in the input fields, then the system rejects it and crashes with a mournful clunking tone. Eskel sighs and finds the button to start it back up. </p>
<p>"Can't you just call someone in?" Jaskier asks. "There's a button right there." He points to the very obvious yellow button on the wall right next to the desk.</p>
<p>"I could," Eskel agrees. "But this is primarily a human hospital, so unless one of about four people in the entire building happens to respond, they're gonna be a real shit to me on principle." The computer starts up with a high-pitched shriek. Geralt, on ear-level with it, gets the full blast and winces. Eskel puts a hand on his head and pets him a little bit in apology.</p>
<p>"Aren't you his emergency contact, though?"</p>
<p>"Yeah, but that just lets me know something happened. Doesn't give me legal access to his medical information." It also doesn't prevent people from being <i>dicks</i> to him, unfortunately — or, worse, to Geralt. Enough humans have never seen a witcher that finding two of them in a room together apparently shreds their tiny little minds, and however that manifests is usually less than helpful. </p>
<p>Eskel casts <i>axii</i> again, gentler this time, and the screen flickers for an instant before unlocking and opening up the chart.</p>
<p>"So, hacking," Jaskier concludes.</p>
<p>"Hacking," Eskel agrees.</p>
<p>"Hacking," Geralt echoes, sounding proud in a slurred, sleepy kind of way. Eskel pets his head again as he starts to skim.</p>
<p>Shit, this had been <i>bad</i>. It doesn't properly identify whatever creature had done it — he'll have to get back to the EMMT team, then, and get their full report, but he's not really surprised — but it must have gotten a coil or two around Geralt and damn near crushed him. A series of pelvic fractures, one dislocated hip, two damaged vertebrae, and a shitload of internal bleeding. <i>Fuck.</i></p>
<p>He scrolls up. Looks like he'd had a chance to take a Swallow between killing the thing and passing out, and the EMMTs had given him one more plus a Kiss once they got to him, but they'd had to give him a Honey before the human doctors could do anything. Shit. He glances over at Geralt: his eyes are closed again, his heart slowed towards sleep. He smells stressed and in pain but not toxic, though with his liver and kidneys bruised to hell they probably shouldn't risk any potions for a while.</p>
<p>He scrolls back down to look at the post-op report. The potions must have done enough to stop the bleeding that he only needed a partial transfusion, but that'll fuck him up for a little while. Witcher blood doesn't keep well, so they mostly rely on either human or synthetic blood for emergencies, and neither is very fun. It'll do in a pinch, though, and this definitely counts as a pinch. </p>
<p>All things considered, Geralt's doing about as well as can be expected. That doesn't really make it easier. It's gonna be a miserable few days for both of them.</p>
<p>"Can I ask a potentially insensitive question?" Jaskier asks, breaking the silence.</p>
<p>"Better than anyone else I know," Eskel answers out of habit.</p>
<p>"Great! Why aren't you married?"</p>
<p>Eskel blinks. "What? Like, in general?"</p>
<p>"Why aren't you and <i>Geralt</i> married?" Jaskier clarifies. "I mean, you're...well, you know. And it would make this sort of thing easier, wouldn't it?"</p>
<p>Eskel catches his fingers reaching for his scar and stops them. "You think we should get married so I don't have to <i>axii</i> the EMR every time Geralt gets himself fucked up enough to end up in the hospital?" he says, instead of addressing literally any other part of it. "I don't know how often you think this happens, but that seems like overkill even to me." </p>
<p>Jaskier snorts. "'Even to you,' sure." Eskel waits for him to elaborate. He doesn't. </p>
<p>"Witchers don't," Eskel says after a little bit. Damn, he's touching his scar again. He stops, drops his hand back onto the surface of the desk. "Not each other." Not anyone else, either. Both ideas are equally absurd in opposite directions.</p>
<p>"If you weren't witchers?" Jaskier asks, and it's so gentle, damn him. If he turned around, he wouldn't see any judgement in Jaskier's eyes. He doesn't turn around. </p>
<p>"Who's to say? If we weren't witchers, would we even be us?" </p>
<p>Jaskier hums, considering, but doesn't answer. Eskel keeps pretending to read the notes on the screen in front of him, stops pretending and actually reads for a bit, then starts pretending again. </p>
<p>"Teach me that card trick you do," Jaskier demands after a little while, and Eskel sighs and sits in the chair on the other side of the bed.</p><hr/>
<p>Geralt dozes in and out for a few hours, still processing whatever shit they'd given him. Jaskier leaves after the first, satisfied that Eskel doesn't need to be anywhere for the rest of the day, and gives Eskel a rib-creaking hug on the way out. It's his own ribs that creak, but Eskel appreciates the effort nonetheless. </p>
<p>He slips into a light meditation after Jaskier goes, keeping half his senses trained on Geralt and a quarter on the space around them. He'd come from his own contract — it's what had kept him from coming sooner — and had to take a portal to get here, and while he doesn't hate them the way Geralt does he's always found them weirdly draining. Comparatively, his own day's been downright relaxing, but he still needs to recharge a bit. </p>
<p>Geralt wakes up for good around dusk, about four hours after Eskel'd arrived. Eskel makes him drink two bottles of water and prove that he can stand up without immediately eating shit, then helps him put together a marginally unhorrifying outfit from his mostly ruined clothing. He's limping, and probably will be for a few days until the tendons and cartilage in his hip finish regenerating, and the spinal damage has left him with some tingling but nothing that affects his balance or mobility, so he doesn't really need help to walk. Eskel helps anyway, wedging in against his side and taking some of his weight. </p>
<p>Geralt signs himself out at the desk, and they catch a car back to the hotel Geralt's staying in for the contract. The driver doesn't flinch at the sight of two witchers climbing into the back of his sedan, but he doesn't exactly make conversation on the drive, either. Fine by them — Geralt's half-asleep again, lulled by the motion and the beginnings of the transfusion reaction — and Eskel tips him generously for the courtesy.</p>
<p>It's not until they're in the hotel room (small, near the entrance to the stairwell on the third floor: hard to break into via the window, but easy to exit) and Geralt is sprawled face-first on the over-crisp sheets that Eskel brings it up.</p>
<p>"Apparently Jaskier thinks we should get married," he says, and his voice is light, he knows it's light because he's been keeping it light for damn near a century. </p>
<p>Geralt turns his head to the side but doesn't open his eyes. "What, so you don't have to <i>axii</i> the stupid computer every time?"</p>
<p>"What do you mean 'every time,' it's happened a dozen times over fifty fucking years."</p>
<p>"It's weird to <i>axii</i> a computer," Geralt says mildly, like he's just thought of it. </p>
<p>"Just because <i>you</i> can't do it—"</p>
<p>"I wouldn't mind, you know."</p>
<p>"Being able to? Yeah, it's fucking useful—"</p>
<p>"Being married."</p>
<p>Oh. "Oh." </p>
<p>"It wouldn't really change anything, and I know it's a human thing, but. I think about it sometimes. It's...nice. To think about."</p>
<p>Eskel stares at him. He must be hitting the transfusion reaction. The blood types don't mix easily for long, and breaking down the foreign stuff takes anywhere from hours to days and fucking sucks the whole time. He's still half fried on the truly obscene amount of human anesthesia he'd been given and hazy from the blood loss, and now his body's trying to fight the replacement blood and it's making him fucking <i>insane</i> because they <i>don't talk about this.</i></p>
<p>He's right, though. It wouldn't change anything. Humans ignore witchers' legal rights and statuses all the time, and there are good reasons for the ways that their social customs differ from humans'. And since Eskel and Geralt are both on the Path, the Path has to come first. Everything between them is opportunistic by definition, no matter how enjoyable. Anything more intentional... It just isn't <i>done</i>. It <i>can't</i> be done.</p>
<p>"Pretty sure I'm as married as I want to be, Wolf," Eskel finally says. His voice is light. It doesn't feel light. Feels like it scrapes on the way out.</p>
<p>Geralt hums and burrows his face into the pillow a little more. "Yeah, me too." His voice isn't light. It's heavy with contentment.</p>
<p>"Yeah, yeah. Sleep off all these feelings while I get us something to eat."</p>
<p>Geralt mumbles something into the pillow, muffled enough that even Eskel can't decipher it.</p>
<p>"What?"</p>
<p>Geralt unmashes his face. "That Coviri Indian place."</p>
<p>"The Coviri-Indian fusion or the Indian place in Covir? Not that there's only one."</p>
<p>"Mm." So the Indian place in Covir, then — not that there's only one. There's only one that's their favorite, though. "Get extra naan?"</p>
<p>Eskel sighs. Looks like he has two more portals in his immediate future. "Plain or garlic?"</p>
<p>"Garlic. Or both. Fuck, do both, I could eat so much naan right now."</p>
<p>"You need protein, asshole."</p>
<p>Geralt cracks an eye open and glares at him. "Get me the goat thing, then," he says, just to be mean. The place has been open almost twenty years and Geralt's only ever ordered the same thing.</p>
<p>"Asshole," Eskel says again. "You want two of them?"</p>
<p>Geralt mashes his face into the pillow again. That's a yes. </p>
<p>"With the bhatura?"</p>
<p>A garbled, "Obviously." Fine. He's earned some fucking carbs, and they're easier to digest while his insides are bruised up, anyway.</p>
<p>"Right. Need anything else while I'm out?" There's a decent alchemist not too far from the restaurant; he'll get some potions restocked while he waits for the food. </p>
<p>"No. Thanks, Eskel."</p>
<p>"Sleep off the feelings," Eskel reminds him sternly. Geralt just smiles, soft and happy, into the pillow. Bastard. </p>
<p>Eskel makes sure he has everything in need within reach, then leaves. He shuts, locks, and wards the door behind him, and doesn't think about marrying Geralt.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this fic has been brought to you by my emo gereskel playlist and my pining for aab india restaurant in columbus. i would <i>murder</i> for some goat choley and bhatura right now. also yes there is some hozier in the playlist and that is where the title comes from.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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